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Showing posts from September, 2013

Frost on Pumpkins

The September harvest moon came. I saw it floating above San Fransisco from the hills of coastal Marin. The moonlight kept me awake for days, but the lack of sleep didn't effect my energy. Awake for zazen, awake for harvest. Darkness would come, awake for hours! 
The mornings pulled frosty breath from cold throats.The fog migrated somewhere else. Our bone dry ground wasn't good habitat anymore. Bitter sweet to see clear skies, feel a hot afternoon sun above thirsty crops. Hopefully rain will come soon. 
And when the rain comes, some go. Seven apprentices, four staff, one elder, one manager, each turn over into something different as the fall sets in and the winter approaches. Some apprentices will enter the practice period, our annual tradition of Ango, inherited from the Buddha's time during the monsoons of India. Some will head off to other farms. 
Being comprised of so much water, I wonder how much pull the moon has on us. Like tides that come in and go out…

A Troubled Male Ally

Comment sections: what a hell realm, what a hungry ghost realm. I think of Kosho who once said, "Hey, you know how you feel like you have to make a work circle announcement? Don't worry, you don't."

Hey, you know how you feel like you just have to say something in a comment section? Don't worry, you don't. Actually, if I really, really, really feel like I have to say something I should just wait ten days and see how it sounds then. Because it's exhausting to ride the wheel of internet samsara. 
Remember this? Can A Man Be A Feminist? Well, I went back there to look at this: The Trouble With Male Allies. It was pretty good, except when it said this:
"I, of course, see this often as men try to comment here on this site by authoritatively stating “AS A FEMINIST______,” demanding that we lend him more credibility in these discussions because he self-identifies as an ally. These men tend to be become quickly irate when you tell them that their opinion on …

Breaking Bad: Salt, Fat, Sugar.

Biology is a kick! Dopamine, the instinct to chase...the body wanting once rare tastes of salt, fat, and sugar, which are now readily available, even in a Zen temple. Add this to the karmic condition of wanting to alter every experience, and you have a hungry ghost.

Do I even need to mention sex or beer or epic meditative mind states?

So I read the series synopsis of Breaking Bad after watching about three seasons on my lap top. It was my attempt to pour it down the drain. I returned the unfinished DVDs and sat it my room, staring at the carpet. I opened Norman Fisher's Taking Our Places and read about half a page. Bullshit, it can't be this easy. This book is good, but it's not magic.

In Allan Wallace's teaching on meditation, he talks about concentration but warns against turning into orange juice. You don't want to be concentrate. And last night, Sara Tashker, our director and my old farm manager said the mind of a farmer is the mind of a good Zen student. We ha…